


hey, brother

by jaegermighty



Category: Drake & Josh
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaegermighty/pseuds/jaegermighty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josh comes home from Harvard with a degree, a scholarship for grad school, a goatee and a fiancé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey, brother

Josh comes home from Harvard with a degree, a scholarship for grad school, a goatee and a fiancé.

Drake's kinda still stuck on the goatee thing, because it seems to him that Josh has Oreo cookie crumbs all over his face, so when Audrey screams in excitement and starts jumping up and down, he's a little lost.

"Wait," he says. "What?"

Josh is hugging Walter now, and he's kind of blushing as he pulls back. He looks at Drake with familiar exasperated affection and laughs. "I'm engaged, Drake. I'm getting married."

It's weird, kind of like being doused in cold water or stepping out into a snow storm from a warm house. His whole body goes kind of tingly and there's one second, two seconds, three seconds when all he can do is stare.

Then – "_What_?"

"We told Wanda's parents last week – she stayed a couple extra nights for her cousin's birthday party, so she'll be here in a few days."

"You're engaged?" Drake repeats, stuck a few seconds behind everyone else. "You're engaged to a chick named _Wanda?_"

Josh rolls his eyes. "Wanda. Girlfriend, philosophy major, together a year and a half. Ring any bells?"

"Engaged, as in _married?_"

Audrey shakes her head slightly at Josh, as if to say _ignore my idiot son,_ and clasps his forearm. "Have you set a date yet?"

Josh goes back to smiling in that strange, dopey way from before. "Sometime in April. It's our anniversary."

Audrey does her female-melt thing. "That's so sweet! Walter, isn't that sweet?"

"I'm happy for you, son." Walter's smiling so widely his face looks like it's gonna crack open. "Congratulations."

Then they're all looking at Drake, as if Drake is actually supposed to be able to form _sentences_ right now. With _words._ And…_syllables._

"Drake?" Josh looks hopeful and nervous and a little bit guilty, and Drake knows, in the way that he's always been able to know things about Josh, that all he wants Drake to do is say that it's okay.

_Words,_ though. Drake opens his mouth and tries, but…yeah, not happening.

He settles for smiling, stretching it across his frozen face and feels cold, incredibly, bone-numbing, deep-aching cold, like his body is a huge, shaking, confused, absolutely miserable block of ice.

"Hug me, brotha!" Josh wraps him up in a bear hug, beaming from ear to ear, and Drake's knees buckle under Josh's weight. He clamps his eyes shut and tries desperately to hold on.

\--

"Hey, Drake?"

Drake still loves his room. It's the most awesome room in the whole house, hands down, even if Megan did move into it for that one school year and ended up putting this big hole beneath the window. It smells vaguely of something burnt fabric now, a scent that Drake always associates with Megan, but he hasn't asked and she hasn't offered anything.

Josh bumps fists with him and collapses on the couch, melting into the cushions with a sigh. "What a day."

Drake makes some sort of grunting noise.

"So what's up?"

"Nothing," Drake replies. He's watching the television but not really, there's some reality show where a celebrity wants to find the perfect pet…whatever. He tries not to look at Josh but it's too hard, and he ends up doing his glance-and-dodge thing, where he looks and pretends he's not looking at the same time. He doesn't think that it works on Josh, because he smirks a little.

"So…"

"So…" Drake repeats. "What?"

"So what's going on?" Josh goes for the blunt approach. "Are you not happy for me? About Wanda, I mean?"

"Seriously. You're dating someone named Wanda?" Drake says. "Are Cosmo and Timmy gonna drop in anytime soon?"

Josh glares at him. "You've met her, Drake. Twice."

"So what?"

He scoffs. "Right. Silly me, thinking that you would pay attention to anything that doesn't pertain to _Drake_."

Per…what? "I totally pay attention to you, dude."

"When it's convenient for you." This is a fight they've had a thousand times before, but the look Josh shoots him is enough for Drake to back off, feeling vaguely as if he were just punched in the stomach.

Drake shakes his head and stands, heading for the beds, still in the same spot. He pulls his shirt up and over his head in one long motion and collapses on Josh's old bed, unable to muster energy to get to the top.

He hears Josh moving around, shuffling things and moving things, and finally feels him sit on the very edge of the bed, as if afraid to come any nearer to where Drake is sprawled out on top of the covers.

"Do you ever wish we were seventeen again?" Drake mumbles. He keeps his head face-down into the pillow and hears Josh sigh. He doesn't look up because he knows that it's pity he'll see.

"Sometimes, man." Drake burrows deeper into the covers and pretends that he's a teenager. "Is everything okay, Drake?"

He doesn't get what he's supposed to say to that. What's okay? Things are okay, sure. Things could always be okay. But okay kind of sucks sometimes too, and damn. It's just an unsatisfying word.

He realizes Josh is still waiting for an answer and tries to shrug, which is hard while lying face down on the bed. Josh seems to understand the gesture, though, and rises from the bed.

"I'll save you some dinner."

Josh's weight disappears from the bed and Drake clenches his fists into the sheets.

\--

So Josh is like, really excited about this whole engagement thing, and spends most of his time on the phone to Wanda. The couple will be staying at home with Walter, Audrey and Megan until they can find an apartment to live in while Josh attends grad school there in San Diego. Drake's been staying at home since his apartment burnt down (yeah, long story) but after two mornings of waking up to Josh making babbling, baby-noises into his cell phone at eight o'clock in the morning, Drake seriously considers heading over to his manager's place, even if he does smell like beef jerky.

Josh always offers the phone to Drake while flailing his arms around and making strange faces. Drake ignores this, as Josh flails his arms and makes faces quite often, but apparently this time is different because after the third time that Drake turns down the offer to talk to Wanda, his face goes purple and he chucks a pillow at Drake.

"Hey! What was that for?"

Josh shushes him and goes back to his phone call. "Oops, I guess Drake's in the shower after all. Sorry, sugar."

_Sugar?_ Drake grimaces and turns his back on his brother, heading for the kitchen.

"No, I'm SURE that Drake WANTS to talk to you, it's just that he's real BUSY," Josh's voice follows him into the kitchen and Drake rolls his eyes. "What? No, I'm not yelling at you, I just – ahem! – bug in my throat." He makes some more hacking, spitting noises.

Drake waits patiently by the fridge and then turns, pretending to be absolutely transfixed by the milk cartons when Josh finally hangs up and follows him in.

"Could you talk to her a little?" Josh pleads. "I really want you guys to get along. I think you will."

"Sure, man," Drake says blandly. There are three kinds of milk in the fridge. Skim for Audrey and Josh, two percent for Walter and whole for Megan and Drake. It reminds him of high school.

"…and we're gonna be married, you know. That's _huge,_" Josh is saying, and Drake scoffs. He doesn't need to be reminded, thanks. "And she's huge and you're huge – I mean not that you're huge, or she's…you know, physically, she's just huge in my life. She's like, you know. Really big." Josh's eyes are wide and he's not really blinking. "And so are you, so. You two are both big, and you should…be big…together." He trails off lamely.

"Right," Drake says succinctly.

"This is important," Josh says imploringly, and damn.

"Fine." Drake sighs. "I'll try, okay? I never said I wouldn't try."

"Trying means talking!"

"I don't do phones well," Drake says. Josh starts to protest and he cuts him off. "You know I don't do phones! Remember when I did that radio interview and I ended up insulting Prince Wendell or something? Dude, they yelled at me for that. For a really long time."

"Prince William," Josh says. "You called him a loser."

"I thought they were talking about the guy from 24."

"How did you mix up…" Josh stops and grins. "Don't tell me."

Drake shrugs and Josh laughs a little, leaving the kitchen and shaking his head. Mission accomplished.

\--

Okay, so he's a musician, like a real one, and that's really fucking awesome, most of the time. But there are days when things get too real, and that's when it starts to suck.

"What do you mean they're canceling the tour?" Drake's angry and he's waving his arms around like an idiot because that's what he does when he's angry. "They cannot cancel this tour, the album releases in a month!"

"There just isn't budget for the kind of tour you were scheduled for right now, Drake." The rep from his studio, his own personal Tommy Quincy, is a short blonde with immaculate everything, head to toe. Her name is Cara but she makes everyone call her Carrie, something she started doing the week that Sex and the City got cancelled. Drake would've dated her if it hadn't been for that. "They're booking you at clubs all over California. You'll still get tons of exposure."

"I don't care about California. I've been playing in California for years."

Cara/Carrie shrugs, playing with her cell phone. "It's better than nothing. It'll solidify your fanbase, maybe even open up more opportunities for you."

"My apartment won't be ready for another month," Drake says. "What am I supposed to do, keep bunking down with my parents?"

"Unless you've got a better idea." Cara/Carrie really isn't very helpful.

"This is great, dude!" Josh exclaims when Drake tells him. "Wanda and I will be staying here until our place is ready – and we can all get to know each other!"

"Great," Drake replies dully.

"It'll be just like high school," Josh says.

Drake scowls and kicks his shoes off, watching them hit the wall. "Right."

\--

The first thing Drake notices about Wanda: her hair. As in, there's a lot of it.

It's curly and red and freaking _everywhere,_ and as soon as she walks through the door she attacks Drake in a bear-hug, and he's got a mouthful of curls.

"Oh, it's so _great_ to _see_ you again, Josh talks about you _all _the _time!_" Wanda has small, wire-frame glasses and a small, delicate face. Everything about her is tiny, yet her clothes and personality are loud enough to make up for it. She also puts weird accents into her sentences which quickly starts to annoy Drake-the-songwriter. She also jumps a lot – when she speaks, when she doesn't speak, when she's excited, when she's bored. It's like she's got springs on the bottoms of her feet, and Drake finds it incredibly irritating.

Even worse than _Wanda,_ is _Wanda and Josh._ They sit as close as they can possibly get, Wanda practically on Josh's lap, cooing and whispering and giggling. They have disgusting pet names, inside jokes – the whole nine yards. At dinner, they start a food fight and get scolded by Audrey; they duck their heads and smirk at each other like five-year-olds.

Drake watches it all and starts to swallow thickly, like he does whenever he's about to get sick. He wants to take his plate and throw it against the wall for some strange, foreign reason. He gets up and leaves the room instead.

\--

The first night with the fiancé addition, Wanda stops Drake in the hallway between the bedroom and the bathroom. Drake has been crashing in his old bedroom with Josh, and as soon as he sees Wanda's wild mane of red, he feels a crushing feeling in his stomach.

"Um, Drake? I kinda wanted to _talk_ to you, about the _bedroom situation,_" Wanda says.

Drake kind of wants to smack her. "Okay."

"I figured, since Josh and I – well, we kind of _share_ a _bedroom,_ back at school." Wanda stops to blush and giggle. "And I don't know how your parents _handle_ stuff like this, but I was _wondering_ if you'd just switch beds with me _anyway_."

Drake pauses, trying desperately to think of reason why he has to stay in the same room with Josh. Allergic to the guest room? Phobia of new sleeping situations? Monster in the closet? "Uh…"

Josh appears behind Wanda, peeking his head out of the bedroom door. He grins at Drake and gives him a thumbs up, and Drake's stomach plummets even further.

"Fine," Drake hears himself saying. "Whatever."

He waits by the bathroom door and watches Josh pick Wanda up by her waist, carrying her into the bedroom, door swinging shut behind them. He can hear them laughing through the walls, and when he turns to head for the guest room, his knees shake.

\--

Wanda is a philosophy major, and this, apparently, gives her the right to dissect Drake at every opportunity. Nothing is safe. Dating, career, family – even Drake's music falls to her mercy.

"You _know_ Drake, this _song_ you're writing, about being 'on the road,' or whatever?" Wanda also has this habit of ending things with a question mark. "Do you think it has something to do with your father's _death_ and how it _affected_ your feelings of _abandonment_ as a child?"

Drake looks at her plainly. "No."

Josh just chuckles whenever this happens. "C'mon, Wan. Leave the poor guy alone." (What the hell kind of nickname is 'Wan' and why does Josh call her that, Drake wonders.)

Wanda shrugs and smiles at Drake in the same condescending way that every single teacher that Drake has ever had smiled at him. "We're _gonna_ be brother and sister _soon_, you know," she points out. "It's my _job_ to look _out_ for you."

"Don't remind me," Drake mutters.

\--

So it starts out small. Wanda obviously disapproves of him, and Drake just doesn't necessarily try and prove her wrong, or anything. Little things. Leaving his towels on the bathroom floor, drinking straight from the carton of orange juice.

It's subtle enough that Josh thinks that Drake is just being his usual messy self, and while Drake isn't entirely convinced that Wanda is totally clueless as to what he's doing, he still gets a little thrill whenever he sees her mouth flatten in irritation, then smooth out again, as she visibly tries to let it go.

Then come the dates. Drake is an avoidant type of personality, he's aware of this. And there's nothing that he's more used to than burying his feelings in a sea of anonymous faces – soft faces with long hair and spicy perfume and curves that make him forget his own name.

He brings them to the house, the easiest place. Megan is never home, always on band trips or…evil little girl conventions or whatever the hell it is that she does. Walter was switched to the evening news so he never gets home before midnight, and Audrey heads to the station after work to keep him company.

The only people the house contains, then, are Josh and Wanda.

He brings a new girl home every chance he gets, never one of them twice. They blend together in a sea of designer skirts and fake eyelashes, and Drake would start feeling bad about using them all so blatantly if they weren't using him right back.

It's not fulfilling or meaningful in any sort of way, but his hands and mind are busy and occupied, and lately that's what Drake craves more than anything else. When he's alone, with no new songs bouncing around his head and no company to keep him talking, he starts thinking of how when they were sixteen and Drake started having nightmares every night, Josh would stay up with him and watch _Celebrities in Rehab_ marathons until they'd both pass out on the couch halfway through Lindsay Lohan's third stint at Promises. Or how throughout the four years that they'd lived in separate cities, Drake in SoCal with his music career and Josh up North with his Ivy Leagues, Josh would call Drake's cell phone before every single show – never missing a single one. If Drake didn't pick up, Josh would leave a message. And how Drake has every single message downloaded into his iTunes, mislabeled and Megan-proof, but a select few still on his 'top 25 played' list all the same.

It hurts – it hurts a lot, actually, for some reason that Drake hasn't quite figured out yet. It hurts to think of _Wanda_ in his bedroom, turning it into WandaandJosh's room instead of DrakeandJosh's room, like it has always been before. It hurts to think of Josh moving out and away, into some house in the suburbs and building a white picket fence and having tons of curly-red-haired children with annoying accents and Oprah fetishes. It hurts to think about – well, it just hurts to think, and Drake isn't used to this kind of hurt. It's strange and scary and unnerving and it's just easier to sleep around, because that's something that Drake is very good at.

It's also something that Wanda wholeheartedly disapproves of. Apparently, she's religious.

"It's _wrong,_ and I am not _comfortable_ with him _using_ all these women every _night."_ Drake can hear them arguing through the walls if he sits on the bathroom floor. He doesn't really want to think about what it means that he's eavesdropping, so he doesn't.

"Drake always does this, it's just – he's just Drake," Josh says. "I'm not particularly happy about it either, but it's his life."

"He's your _brother,_ aren't you _worried _about him? He's gonna get an _STD_ or _AIDS_ or something."

"Drake knows what he's doing."

"And _what_ about those _girls_? Do _they_ know what _they're_ doing?"

Josh murmurs something in reply that Drake can't hear, but it gives him a thrill all the same. They're arguing about _him,_ and that makes him feel miles better for whatever reason.

But – "Wanda, he's my _brother_," he hears Josh say suddenly, and instantly feels sick again.

He hates that word.

\--

Playing tours in California is like a one-night-stand. Sexually and intensely charged, but, well, you might want to get yourself checked out afterwards, you know. Just in case.

He knows his state inside and out, having been playing tours here since he was a teenager. Every city he lands in, he knows the best clubs, the best restaurants, the streets to avoid and the hotels with the best room service. It's familiar but still exciting, and well. Maybe doing yet another California tour isn't so bad after all.

There is one leg of the tour, however, that Drake isn't familiar with. He's always stayed away from Silicon Valley for the most part, the area being far too upscale and pretentious for Drake's taste – not to mention that Santa Clara's occupants have never been the type of fans that are won over by Drake's type of music. But Cara/Carrie assures him that it's a 'new market,' and Drake goes in with his guard up, an open but wary mind.

He has two shows, both at the same club in San Jose. The first night goes okay – a little low-key and not the most intense show he's ever played, but they don't throw tomatoes at him or anything like he'd feared they would. The second night, however, is a dud. Half the patrons aren't even listening to him, and the other half are openly disdainful. He's a few minutes away from being booed off the stage when he hightails it out of there, not in the mood to deal with an angry crowd.

In the back room, he's loading up the truck with his band when a silky voice reaches his ears. He freezes in the motion of picking up an amp, thinking for half of a second that this whole weirdness with Josh really has driven him insane.

"…hands _off_ of me!"

No, not insane. Just incredibly unlucky.

He turns around and goes to the door that leads to the main part of the club, which has been propped halfway open with a stopper. He peeks and sees a slim, sleek brunette in the half-light, struggling with a guy twice her size.

"How dare you!" she spits and Drake almost wants to smirk. Mindy Crenshaw.

"Oh come on," the guy says, sliding his hands down to her butt. "Don't be like this."

Mindy struggles against him, but it doesn't look like she's grown at all since high school, and therefore is puny compared to the decent sized scum ball that's feeling her up. The fact that she still seems to enjoy the sinfully short skirts doesn't seem to be helping her case, either. "Excuse me for having self-respect, but I'm going to have to ask you to _fuck off_, now," she snarls, and Drake does smirk, then.

"Hey," the guy starts, sounding angry, and that's when Drake steps in.

"Mindy?" He says, striding out into the club. Mindy whirls around, eyes widening. "Wow. _Wow._ Talk about coincidences, I was just thinking about you. Been a while, right?"

"Uh, yeah," she says, frowning. She manages to slip out of her date's grasp as the guy turns to size up Drake, and she straightens her clothes, glancing at the thug nervously. "Drake, hi. This is Mitch." She motions to him meaningfully with her eyes.

"Well hiya, Mitch!" Drake says enthusiastically, pumping the guy's hand and taking it away from Mindy's backside in the process. "It sure is great to meet you. Any friend of Min's a friend of mine!"

"Min?" Mindy repeats, looking vaguely as if she's just swallowed a frog.

"Drake," Mitch replies. "Right. You're a…friend of hers?"

"Oh, we go way back," Drake replies. He sidles up to Mindy and puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her out of Mitch's reach. She almost shudders and he looks over to see a sour look on her face, arms crossed and hands clenched on her upper forearms. He's having way too much fun with this, he decides. "Fun times, eh, Min? Say…this isn't the guy you've been talking about so much, is it?"

"You've been…talking about me?" Mitch says, eyebrows furrowed.

Mindy looks slightly sick and her voice is flat. "Apparently."

Drake looks over at Mitch innocently and drives the final nail into the coffin. "Oh, she won't shut up about you! She's practically got the china patterns picked out already, right, Min?"

"Uh…" Mitch laughs nervously. "Is that my cell phone? I think it is." He dashes off and Mindy instantly shoves Drake's arm off her shoulders, scowling.

"Wow, he went fast. I think I saw those little motor things on his feet." Drake smiles proudly. "Just like the Roadrunner."

Mindy eyes him incredulously for a few seconds, then shakes her head, closing her eyes. "Drake Parker," she says evenly, eyes narrowing. "Regardless of the idiotic way you went about it, it did get rid of him…" she sighs. "I…suppose I should thank you."

"Now why would you want to do that?" Drake asks. "It would so ruin my opinion of you."

Mindy's mouth flattens out slightly, not quite a smile. "I caught the last part of your set," she says. "So you really are attempting to make a living with your little hobby, after all."

"Am making a living," Drake corrects. "Not everyone is cut out for…rocket science, or whatever it is that you do."

"I'm a doctor," Mindy says, superiority coating her voice. "Or I will be soon. I'm doing my residency now, at a hospital here."

"Oh, is that where you met your date?" Drake asks innocently, smirk lurking at the corners of his mouth.

She sniffs. "Hardly. That…pathetic excuse of a person was a blind date gone horribly wrong."

"Blind date?" Drake repeats. "Wow. Never thought you'd have to resort to that."

"Not all of us can pick our companions from the line at the free clinic," Mindy replies disdainfully. "My work schedule is very hectic. You wouldn't understand."

"Oh right, because tours are perfectly calm," he shoots back.

She crosses her arms, causing her top to ride up slightly and expose her abdomen. Drake's eyes flicker down and back up quickly. "A _tour_, right. Because obviously your little dog and pony band is vitally important to the well-being of mankind."

Drake steps forward into her personal space, the old irritation combined with the vague feeling of missing something important roaring back with a vengeance, crawling beneath his skin just as it did in high school. "Right, and you think you're so important," he spits. "Just cause you…save lives or whatever." He scoffs, wincing inwardly.

Mindy smirks. "Brilliant. You wow me with your mental prowess."

"Okay, I don't know what a prowess is, but you're still a self-righteous bitch."

"And you're still an idiotic Neanderthal."

They stare at each other for a moment, breath heaving, before Mindy lets out what sounds suspiciously like a growl and throws her arms around his neck, crushing her lips to his. They lunge backwards together and Drake's back hits the door leading to the back room, knocking the stopper out and sending it slamming shut.

They tear apart at the sound and Mindy instantly curses, straightening her skirt again. "What the hell was that?" she spits.

"I dunno!" Drake squeaks. "You started it!"

"Ugh. Still as immature as ever, I see." Mindy runs her hand through her mussed hair, scowling and pulling it out of the clip it's already falling out of. "You messed up my hair, you idiot."

"You messed up my sanity," Drake grumbles. "What's your problem, anyway?"

Mindy glares at him. "You," she says shortly.

Drake rolls his eyes. "Brilliant comeback."

"It must be this little…interlude with you. Somehow my IQ is dropping simply by being in the same room."

"Oh yeah? Well the temperature dropped fifty degrees when you walked in, so I'm a little slower than usual, Princess."

"I hate you."

"I hate you _more._"

She pauses, eyes sparking with heat. "My place?"

Drake pauses, a jittery feeling in his arms and legs, and speaks without thinking. "Twenty minutes."

\--

When Drake returns to San Diego, he feels like he's wearing a scarlet letter 'M' on his chest. He can hardly sit still, because bad, dirty, and wrong memories keep running through his head. His first night back, everyone throws him a welcome home dinner, and he can barely keep from twitching, recalling incredibly naughty things when he should be passing the salt or eating his pork. Josh keeps throwing him weird looks, and at one point, he catches Drake's eye and mouths 'are you okay?' Drake shrugs and thinks, _I fucked your ex-girlfriend. So yeah, I'm peachy._

"So what was the best part?" Walter asks.

_The second time, the thing with the backs of her legs,_ he thinks. "Uh – UCLA, of course," he says. "College shows are always wild."

Megan chews slowly, eyeing her brother. "I'm thinking of applying there," she says. "What's the campus like?"

"Big," he says, grasping for more. For some reason he can't recall a single thing about a school he's played at a dozen times. "Uh…fancy. I dunno. You'd like it, I think. Great…music program…I think?"

Wanda makes a noise halfway between a laugh and a snort. "_Megan_, if you're looking for a good music program, _Stanford_ is the way to go," she says.

"Thanks, _Wanda,_" Megan replies, subtly mocking, and Drake suppresses a smirk. "I'm pretty _set_ on a _state_ school, though."

Audrey smiles. "Megan, you could get in anywhere you wanted. You shouldn't settle on a state school if you don't want to."

"I want a state school," Megan replies, going along with her part in the Never Ending Argument. "What's the big deal with me not going Ivy League, anyway? Drake didn't even _go_ to college."

"Hey," Drake says half-heartedly, mouth full of potatoes. "I went for…like, a whole semester."

"Right, and it thrilled us all," Megan replies, rolling her eyes.

Walter shrugs and smiles his goofy 'chance of rain' smile. "We're just worried that you're not going for your full potential, Megs," he says. His voice lowers. "I know that money's a little tight right now, but – "

"Is it so hard to imagine that maybe I don't _want_ to go to Stanford or Harvard or where the heck ever else?" Megan grits out. "And trust me Dad, the tuition is barely a factor."

"If you're _worried_ about _affording_ it, there are _tons_ of scholarships that Megan could apply for," Wanda chimes in, as if Megan hadn't even spoken. "_Especially_ with her being a _music_ student, and all. There are tons of opportunities for _gifted_ young musicians like _Megan_."

The emphasis on 'gifted' does not escape Drake's attention. "Gift this," he mutters underneath his breath, shooting his green beans across his plate petulantly.

"Why, I _never_ could have afforded _my_ education if it weren't for _my_ scholarship," Wanda goes on. "And _Josh_ had _quite_ a few scholarships as well, didn't you, _honey bear_?" Josh smiles at her and Drake rolls his eyes. He looks over at Megan briefly, who looks just as disgusted as Drake feels.

"How many times do I have to say it?" Megan bursts out. "I don't want private school. I don't even want state school, to be honest!"

"What?" Audrey asks. "Megan, don't tell me – "

Megan crosses her arms angrily. "Business school," she says. "It's what I've been talking about for the past three years, but nobody seems to be listening!"

Drake winces, exchanging a look with Josh. Both sink back into their seats.

"Honey, there are no music programs at a business school," Audrey says. "And you can always major in business at a state school, but also have the option of switching to something else."

"I don't want to switch!"

"You might in a few years! We just want you to keep your options open!"

"What, like Drake kept his open?" Megan says. She sends an even look at Drake, who raises an eyebrow at her. "He's a real musician now, yeah, but we never thought he'd actually _make_ it. But you guys didn't pressure him to have a backup major in…I dunno, being an idiot. Or whatever else it is Drake can do."

"Sex?" Drake offers. Mindy's face flashes in his head again. "I'm uh…really good at _that_."

"Drake," Walter admonishes.

"What? Just the truth." Drake leans back and sneaks a look at Josh, who snorts, hiding a grin. Wanda stabs at her pork viciously and Drake smiles widely.

"You guys just let him go off without a word," Megan continues.

"That's true," Drake chimes in. "You were very willing to let me do my own thing, without a Plan B or whatever." Audrey swivels around to glare at him. "Which I'm very grateful for! I totally thanked you guys in my linear notes and everything."

Josh smiles whimsically. "I believe you even called us 'super awesome.' High praise." Wanda rolls her eyes.

"Can we not discuss this right now, Megan?" Audrey asks. "It's Drake's first night home, and it's a rare thing, to have everyone in the house at the same time. Soon, Josh and Wanda will be married and Drake will be gone again, and you're leaving for college soon…" she trails off, bottom lip trembling. Josh and Drake roll their eyes, grumbling. "I just want to have a pleasant family dinner, gosh darn it!"

Megan sighs, leaning her chin on her hand. "Fine," she says sourly.

An awkward silence falls over the table, and Walter breaks it with an uneasy chuckle. "So," he says. "Drake. Did you…do anything interesting?" A quick, dirty flash of Mindy Crenshaw instantly floods Drake's mind and he groans, dropping his fork. "What? What'd I say?"

\--

Christmas is rapidly approaching, and apparently it's Wanda's favorite holiday. She decorates the entire house from top to bottom and is constantly humming carols to herself. Josh thinks it's adorable of course, and the golden couple becomes even more nauseating than usual. The transition from being on tour and in his element back to the house that holds his worst nightmare is grating and shocking, and everything seems so much worse than it ever was before.

Drake's constant stream of women ceases in his freak out over Mindy, and instead of resenting it, it's actually sort of refreshing. Instead of using multiple women to distract himself, he now only needs one, and finds himself thinking about his old nemesis whenever the WandaandJosh spectacle becomes too much to bear. He imagines how Josh would react, and every scenario he can think of involves some sort of fight, with lots of sputtering and squeaking on Josh's part. For some reason, this seems like a more enjoyable experience than watching him ride on Wanda's coattails, and there are times when he can barely restrain himself from blurting it out.

He says nothing, however, and keeps it close to his chest, something that is his, and his alone. His music is his only other saving grace, and he quickly builds up enough new material for an entirely new album, if not more than one.

He practices well into the night, and after the third morning of Megan snarling around the kitchen with dark circles beneath her eyes, he is sent to the backyard, where the noise won't disturb anyone (except the neighbors, of course). He sits on the grass with his guitar and a notebook for hours and sings until his voice is hoarse, and by the time he finally treks back inside to the guest bedroom, he isn't thinking of anything but chord progressions and lyrics – and occasionally Mindy Crenshaw – and it's exactly what he needs.

One night, Josh joins him. Drake instinctively stiffens when he hears his stepbrother approach, lowering his voice and switching from a new song to one of his older ones for a reason he can't discern. "Hey, man," he hears Josh greet, in that soft, friendly way of his, and Drake quickly turns his face to the sky.

"Hey," he says back, strumming the chords to _Fallen for You._ "What's up?"

"I dunno." Josh shrugs and leans against the fence, kicking at something on the ground. "Working on something new?"

_Buddy Holly glasses on a Bettie Page negative. _"Always am." Drake picks at the strings, humming the melody and keeping the words in his head. _You're lookin so classic, handpicked by some __Hollywood__ executive. _

"Hey…we're okay, right?"

Drake stops strumming momentarily and keeps his eyes on Josh's cheekbone, a trick he's learned after a few years in the music business. "Yeah, of course, Josh. Why wouldn't we be?"

"I don't know. It just seems weird, is all." Josh fidgets and shuffles his feet, looking suddenly like a little boy being chastised for something. Drake looks down at his guitar, a lump in his throat. "You've seemed…off, ever since you got back from tour."

"Yeah, well." Drake shrugs, strumming harder. _Just like Norma Jean._ "Things are changing. It takes some getting used to, is all."

"Yeah." Josh smiles a bit. "Marriage. Wow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Look, you know that…" Josh shrugs, smiling a little. "No matter what happens with me and Wanda…we'll always be brothers, right? Married or not, we're still in it together."

Drake bites his lip and nods, moving into the chorus after a slight hesitation. "I know that, man."

"Good." Josh smiles and Drake looks away. _I can't believe I've fallen for you._

\--

Mindy calls a few days before Christmas. Drake nearly drops the phone.

"_Why_ didn't you tell me he was getting married, you dolt?! Did you think I wouldn't figure it out? Did you not think this was information worthy of sharing?!"

"Uh, hello to you too, Min," Drake says. "And…what?"

"Josh is getting _married?_"

"Yeah." Drake leans against the fridge. "Don't remind me. How'd you find out?"

"I ran into someone from high school, and I looked up the announcement on the internet," Mindy replies. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to," Drake replies honestly. "Why do you care?"

"I…I don't."

"Okay, then." Drake can see Wanda in the living room, chattering away about something to Megan, who looks about two seconds away from a felony. He feels a bubble of something in his chest and blurts out something before Mindy can hang up. "Where are you right now?"

"At – at work," Mindy says, sounding a little surprised.

"Yeah?" Drake hops up on the counter, brow furrowed slightly. "What's it mean exactly, to be a resident? What's the difference between that and a real doctor?"

"I am a real doctor," Mindy says irritably, then backtracks. "Wait – did you just ask me a genuine question?"

"Maybe."

"Uh…"

"Look," Drake says quietly, hissing into the phone. "I know this is the weirdest thing to happen to you since…you failed gym class, or whatever, but I'm stuck in a house with 'honey bear' and his fiancé from hell, and I'm crawling out of my skin here, and I could really use a distraction, okay?"

"A distraction," Mindy repeats flatly.

"Just…explain to me about this resident thing," Drake says, letting his head hit the cupboard behind him with a 'thump.' "And don't think about it too much."

There's a long pause, and Mindy inhales softly. "Fine. I suppose I could do my good deed for the day."

"Wonderful," Drake sneers, but settles in on the counter anyway.

Mindy's got a drawl that could make Alan Rickman wince, but after Wanda's pointed inflections, it feels wonderful to have someone he's completely free to snap back at. He hangs up after twenty minutes or so, when Mindy's break ends, and when Josh brushes past him to join Wanda in the living room, it doesn't even faze him. Well, maybe a little. But just a tiny bit.

He continues his conversations with Mindy over the next few weeks, finding himself dialing her cell phone whenever his skin starts to crawl and the urge to run and jump out of the nearest window becomes too great. He finds her to be actually pretty easy to talk to, aside from the whole constantly insulting him thing, and it isn't like he isn't insulting right back.

Josh starts to become suspicious, what with the sudden absence of Drake's dates along with the cell phone that's become attached to his person, but Drake dodges his questions as best as he can.

"So who is she?" Josh keeps asking, and Drake almost wants to tell him, just to see the look on his face. He doesn't though, because these sudden urges to hurt Josh in any way he can are freaking him out more than a little.

It isn't like Drake doesn't know what's happening, exactly, it's more like…he doesn't want to think about it. His relationship with Josh has always been one of those _things,_ just…the way it is, like Megan being mean and Walter being goofy and his mom being girly and overprotective. Drake can't remember a time when he didn't relate practically everything in his life back to Josh in some way, and now the idea that Josh maybe doesn't do the same is heartbreaking in a way that Drake just doesn't want to deal with. As in, at all.

The longer Drake stays in the house with Wanda and Josh, the itchier he gets. He stops sleeping as much and eating becomes a chore. He goes out to clubs and stays out until the break of dawn, crashing into the guest bedroom minutes before the rest of the house rises for school and work.

Of course, the first person to call him on it is Mindy.

"Do you really think that you're going to get anyone to feel sorry for you this way?" she snaps, forgoing a hello.

Drake scowls. Mindy's voice on the end of a phone line has been his alarm clock for the past three days, and it's really getting old. "What are you babbling about?"

"Josh called me," she replies bluntly.

Drake's stomach drops to his knees and he leaps out of bed, subsequently getting his legs tangled in the sheets and propelling him forward, crashing into the floor. He fumbles for the phone, hearing Mindy's tinny voice bitching, and finally gets it to his ear while still crumpled in a pile on the carpet. "He _what?_"

"What the hell did you _do?_ Drop the phone?"

Drake tries to free himself from the bedspread and fails, foot getting caught in a pillowcase. "Uh, yeah, we'll go with that."

"He called me," Mindy repeats. "Or he tried to, anyway. He must've went through your call history – anyway, he left a message on my voicemail."

"He – he knows that – that we – "

"No, idiot," Mindy snaps, irritated. "I didn't pick up. And I don't have a personalized voicemail message, just one of the automated ones with the phone number."

"Oh yeah." Something else registers in his head and he blinks, scooting backwards and dragging the rest of the blankets from the bed with him. "What did he say?"

"He babbled a bit about secret girlfriends and…someone named Wendy? Or something. I don't know. The gist of it is that he's either really worried about you, or really nosy. Probably both."

"I can't – " Drake sputters, shaking his head. "I can't believe he'd call you. Without knowing who you are, I mean. That's so…" _like him,_ he thinks. Annoyingly genuine. Damn it!

"I can only guess that you've been drowning yourself in alcohol and…tarts, lately," Mindy sniffs. Drake rolls his eyes and props the phone between his ear and shoulder, concentrating on freeing himself from his blankety prison. "And by 'tart,' I am not talking about dessert."

He finally disentangles himself, hopping to his feet and searching around for his clothes. "You know it's – _Jesus Christ, _it's seven am here, Mindy."

"It's seven am here too, moron," Mindy snaps. "We're in the same time zone."

"I thought you worked in the mornings," Drake mumbles, finding an errant pair of jeans buried beneath one of his amps.

"Christmas is this Thursday," Mindy replies. "I've got a whole week off." She sounds vaguely angry about this. "Stupid labor laws."

"You're such a freak," Drake says carelessly, tripping over a power cord and nearly nose-diving into his dresser.

There's a pause. "Look," Mindy says, in her 'I'm trying really hard not to throw something' voice. "I don't know what it is that's going on with you, but I'd rather you not drink yourself into a coma. I really don't have time to attend a funeral right now."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute," Drake says. "Are you…expressing _emotion?_ Emotion that maybe, sort of means that you possibly kind of…_like me?_"

"I'm a doctor," she says quickly. "It's in my nature to make sure that…you know, people don't die. You shouldn't read into it anymore than that."

"Damn. You don't have to be so harsh, my heart is fragile, you know."

"Well," she replies crisply. "Thanks for that. Now I've done my part, this conversation can end now."

"You don't wanna chat with me anymore?" Drake said, feigning a pout. "I so look forward to it. Highlight of my day, really." He hears a click and the dial tone reaches his ear. He flips his phone shut and groans, shaking his head.

Close call. Too close.

\--

There's this tradition that Audrey and Walter started right after they were married – ice skating. Every year around New Year's Eve, they dig out all the barely-used winter jackets and haul everyone off to the indoor skating rink by the boardwalk, always promising 'loads of fun' and hardly ever delivering.

Drake has never enjoyed this particular tradition, since every year basically consists of all of them stumbling around and leaving with sore legs and sour moods (except Josh, of course, who calls it a wholesome callisthenic workout), but there's one reason that he's actually looking forward to it. That reason is Wanda – or rather, the lack of Wanda.

"I have _allergies,_" she whines. "Couldn't we…go _rollerblading_ instead?"

"But…it's tradition," Josh replies, looking wounded.

Drake grins. Josh loves traditions.

"Oh, just go _without_ me, I'll only _drag _you _down._"

Josh looks torn between his excitement over ice skating and his guilt over leaving his fiancé behind. Drake scoffs, disgusted. "What are you allergic to, anyway? Ice?"

Mindy shoots him a glare, then seems to remember that Josh is in the room, and melts it into a smile. "Look, I'm _fine,_ really. _Go _and have _fun,_ Josh."

Josh relaxes and plops down beside her on the couch, goofy grin in place. "Okay, baby."

Drake looks away, gulping hard as they kiss. Baby is so much worse than honey-bear or sugar. So, so much worse.

The ice rink is just as Drake remembers it, even after a three-year or so absence. Rickety, old, slightly dangerous looking and…really dirty.

"Megan," Drake says. "Don't fall down out there. You might get pregnant." Audrey smacks him. "Ow!"

"Mom, this is gross," Megan complains. "Can't we just go see a movie or something? That's a bonding activity, _and_ it doesn't involve any possibilities for communicable diseases."

Walter looks up from where he's lacing up his skates. "Come on, guys, what's with the gloom? This is gonna be fun!" He stands up and promptly falls back down to the bench, wobbling on the thin blades.

"This has to be illegal," Megan grumbles, wrinkling her nose as she puts her foot in an ice skate gingerly. "I could sue you, probably."

Josh is already out on the ice, making clumsy circles and laughing. "What's taking you slow pokes so long?"

Drake shoots a wary look at the mottled ice. "Are you sure this is safe? I know it's not sanitary."

"Come _on,_ Drake." Josh gives him the eyes and before he can blink, Drake's skating after him. "Race ya to the other side!" and Josh is gone, laughing.

"Crap. Not fair!" It takes him a few seconds, but he gets the hang of it enough to half skate, half stumble over to where Josh is waiting, chuckling at him. Drake reaches out to grab the glass that lines the rink and glares. "Yeah, real funny."

"You'll get the hang of it." Josh starts skating backwards – _backwards_! – and grins, beckoning him with one hand.

"Oh no. I like it here by the wall. Walls are nice."

"What are you, chicken?"

Drake's eyes spark and he lunges, only to catch the front of his skate in a divot in the ice, causing him to topple forward onto his stomach. "Fu…dge." He can hear Megan giggling from the other side of the rink, and when he looks up at Josh, he can see a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Not a word."

"Not a word. No words here!" Josh grabs his arm and tugs him up, causing him to stumble slightly into Josh's chest. Drake blinks for a moment, stunned, then immediately wrenches back, a tremor racing down his skin. "You're doing fine," he hears an unfazed Josh assure him.

"Uh…yeah." Drake runs a wobbly hand through his hair and turns to skate back toward the wall, even shakier than he had been before. "Look, you can go and skate your heart out, dude, and I'll stay here and map the wall for awhile."

Josh pouts slightly, but Drake ignores him, resting against the wall momentarily. He looks down at his feet and sees Josh skate away, back towards their family, out of the corner of his eye.

He keeps one hand on the wall and pushes forward, trying to get used to the feel of it. He takes his hand away experimentally and immediately tips to the side, causing him to reach out for the wall again. He looks over at Josh and the others, feeling slightly relieved that Megan doesn't seem to be faring any better than he is. That's something, at least.

He looks over at Josh again, who is skating circles around his father, laughing loudly. His head is thrown back and his cheeks flushed from the artificial chill in the stadium. His hair curls over the back of his jacket, which is at least two sizes too small, since he hasn't actually worn it in about five years or so.

Drake takes a deep breath and slowly lets his gaze travel down the length of Josh's body, all lean muscle and long limbs. His mouth waters and his eyes glaze over slightly, warmth sweeping over his body and settling in his abdomen. He lets out a long, trembling breath and grabs at the wall, feeling light-headed.

Josh suddenly looks over and catches Drake looking, causing his cheeks to instantly flame. But Josh just shrugs and sends him a grin, turning and zooming so close to Megan in a sudden burst of speed that she shrieks and tips over. Drake laughs a little, a prickly feeling behind his eyes.

His phone buzzes on his hip and he practically jumps out of his skin, fumbling to keep his balance on the unfamiliar ice skates. He grabs at it and pulls it from his coat, seeing Mindy's number on the display.

Crap.

"Uh, it's my manager," he calls, waving his phone. Josh waves at him, and Audrey nods, hands and arms occupied from hanging on for dear life to Walter's arm. Megan is floundering by the wall and ignores him. He slides back, keeping to the wall, barely managing to make it back to solid ground without falling again.

He stumbles over, incredibly awkward in the skates, and manages to make it to the edge of the carpeted area, collapsing on a bench. He flips his phone open, out of breath and scowling. "Hello?"

"What took you so long?" she demands.

"I'm kind of busy right now," he shoots back. "Did you need something from me or what?"

"I'm in town right now," she says. "For New Year's. Can you come over?"

There's a harsh, jagged quality to her voice that gives him momentary pause. For all their conversations, they never really discussed anything meaningful, but Drake isn't _completely_ oblivious (shut up) and he knows that something big's going down in her life right now. Why else would she waste time on him, Drake wonders. The only possible explanation is that she's at least a little screwed up.

He shoots a look over his shoulder at his family, laughing as they fail spectacularly at skating. He should be out there with them right now, but there's a barrier between him and them that wasn't there before, an invisible line that he didn't know he'd been crossing. He catches sight of Josh, pulling Megan around by her hands, and a bolt of unexpected anguish makes him gasp, feeling the line of fire race across his chest, choking him momentarily.

"Where are you staying?" slips out of his mouth, and he winces.

"The Embassy, downtown, south of Sixty-third."

"Gimme a little bit. I'll be there soon."

\--

It takes him a little bit to convince Audrey and Walter to let him leave. He knows his mother is feeling nostalgic with the anomaly of everyone living at home once more, but he _has_ spent the past three months at home, more or less non stop. He makes up some story about some party or another and escapes, dodging questions from Josh and suspicious glances from Megan.

Mindy's waiting for him in the lobby when he gets there, curled up on a couch with her legs tucked beneath her. She looks remarkably and uncharacteristically disheveled, her hair pulled up into a messy ponytail and dressed in a pair of ratty sweatpants with a large duster that hangs down below her knees. She doesn't smile, but she grabs his hand and clutches it tightly, dragging him into the bar in the hotel. She sits down at a booth and immediately drops her forehead to the table, groaning.

"Uh…Mindy?" Drake is taken aback by her demeanor, unused to her not being in control of the situation. "Hey. Mindy?"

She props her chin up in her hand. "How do you do it?"

"Do…what?"

"This." She gestures at him. "This…careless attitude you have about everything. I can't…I can't understand it." She shakes her head, perplexed.

"Uh, I'm a little lost myself."

"I mean it. How do you…force yourself to relax?" She clenches at the table's edge, and Drake notices for the first time how tired she looks. "I – I feel like there's this winch at the base of my spine, and there's some bastard winding and winding, and I can't – cannot – _escape_."

"Um." Drake tries to find a reply to that but comes up empty. "Winch?"

"A pulley. Like on a crane." Mindy corrects him without a touch of sarcasm or venom, and that's when Drake knows something's really wrong.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. Nothing." She puts her head back down on the table. "Life sucks," she moans into the ceramic.

"Yeah, it kind of does." He's still unsure of what to do, so he lays a hand on her neck, softly touching the skin below her hairline. Her muscles are rigid, and he frowns slightly, feeling her practically vibrating with tension. "Jesus, Mindy."

"I know," she moans.

"Is it work?" He finds a creeping sensation that feels vaguely like concern, and silently freaks out about it a little before moving his other hand to her neck, just keeping them on her skin lightly. "Something happened?"

She's silent for a moment. "No, work is fine," she says after a second, voice distant. "Everything's fine. I just – " she laughs harshly, without humor. "I think I'm having a nervous breakdown. I have all the symptoms."

"You can diagnose yourself?" Drake makes a quick decision and stands, moving to the other side of the booth and sliding in next to Mindy. He returns his hands to her neck, softly applying pressure to the muscles in her shoulders. "That seems a little strange. Conflict of interest or something."

She sighs a little. "I need to you help me," she practically demands, though the effect is muted with her being facedown still. "I need…to know how you do it."

"It's not like, a conscious thing," he says. "It's just…how I've always been. I don't really sweat the small stuff."

She gives a little groan. "That is completely and wholly unhelpful."

He lays his hands on the back of her shoulders, marveling at the sharp lines that make up her body. "Why did you call me, then?" he asks curiously. "You've got family here in town, right? Wouldn't they be more calming than me?"

"A tiger's more calming than you," she grumbles.

"My point exactly."

She moves her head to the side so she can peek up at him. "I don't know, okay? I'm…not myself right now."

"Obviously."

Her eyes fall shut. "Thank you for coming, anyway."

"Yeah, well." He thinks of Josh at home, probably with Wanda, and decides he doesn't regret leaving.

"I needed someone who doesn't know me," Mindy says. "You don't, not really."

"Can't argue with that." He looks down at her and sees how exhausted she is, and marvels for a second. Mindy Crenshaw, falling apart at the seams. "I think you should see someone. I mean, I'm not exactly an expert here, but you need some…Valium or something. I dunno."

She's quiet for another minute before sitting up, turning in the seat so one leg is propped up and they're face to face. "Look, I need you to do something for me," she says suddenly.

"Do I have a choice?"

She ignores him. "I need you to pretend," she says carefully, forming each word slowly and deliberately.

"Pretend what?"

"Anything." She sighs. "I just…need to not think, you know?" She closes her eyes momentarily and opens them again. "Can you help me with that?"

Not thinking sounds so incredibly blissful to Drake right now, and he agrees without thinking. "I can do that." She makes a hitching noise in her throat and kind of falls forward, slanting her mouth over his.

The kiss is almost affectionate and throws Drake for a loop momentarily. He starts to respond after a moment and feels something like compassion, bringing his hand up to her cheek and brushing down the length of her jaw.

And then freezes when he feels the shock of cold, smelly liquid being dumped all over his head.

Mindy and Drake jerk away from each other, sputtering. Drake blinks dumbly, wiping his face and realizes with a start that he's soaked in beer. "What in the hell…" he looks up and stops dead, every muscle in his body freezing in place.

Josh is standing over their table, eyes wide and looking as surprised as Mindy and Drake do. He's wearing some weird-looking vest and carrying an empty waiter's tray. Drake notices vaguely an empty glass on the table, rolling over and crashing onto the opposite seat.

"Josh," Mindy says, sounding a little stunned.

"I – you two – there's – the beer. I spilled the beer!" Josh sputters. "I can't – there's – there's rules, you know! Rules!"

"Rules?" Mindy repeats.

Drake opens his mouth to say something, but cannot form words. He just sits there, frozen, eyes glued to Josh, who is jerkily trying to mop up the spilled beer with the edge of his vest. "Yes, rules, about…about things, and you can't just – just ignore the rules!" Josh is still babbling. "It's just rude and unethical and wrong – _wrong!_ Dirty, bad, and _wrong!"_

"Josh, did you just dump beer on us?" Mindy says, slowly coming to her sense. "And why on _earth_ are you wearing a waiter's uniform?"

"I – I – "

"Josh," Drake finally manages. "Dude, listen – "

"No! No." Josh drops the tray on the table with a clatter, and the look on his face is like a punch to Drake's stomach. "Just…" he flails a little with his mouth open, before jerking slightly and striding away in the opposite direction.

"Oh my God," Mindy says. "That…" She shakes her head, leaving it unfinished. "I'm covered in beer. He dumped…beer on us."

"I…" Drake stares in the direction that Josh has gone, feeling as low and sick as he's ever felt in his entire life. "He must've followed me," he says numbly. "I was with him, before – and he's been curious, he called your cell…he thinks I have a secret girlfriend."

Mindy sighs. "And he saw us…well. It probably didn't exactly dissuade that theory."

Drake can barely hear her over the roaring in his ears. "I…I have to..." he doesn't finish the sentence, just rises and races off after Josh, brushing past the gaggle of waiters that are scurrying frantically over to the booth.

Josh is striding out of the doors in the lobby when Drake catches up to him, still in his waiter's vest. "Josh!" Drake calls, frantically grabbing at his arm. "Wait, wait. Just stop for a second."

Josh wrenches his arm away. "Rules!" he yells, and turns back toward the doors.

"I know, okay? I know. I'm sorry." Drake runs in front of Josh's path, causing him to veer off to the side. "It's not what you think!" Drake shimmies to the side, blocking his path again, and the two do an angry dodge-and-catch game, drawing the attention from more than a few people in the lobby. Josh finally growls and pushes past Drake to get outside, a storm brewing on his features. Drake takes off after him. "Josh, would you just listen to me?"

Josh shakes his head, muttering angrily beneath his breath. "I – "

"Josh, _please._"

"I really can't _do_ this right now," Josh says angrily. "I need…to be away. Away from you."

Drake sucks in a breath, stung. "I – Josh, I'm sorry. I was gonna tell you." He jogs along the side as Josh storms through the parking lot of the hotel. "I was, really. I just – it happened so quick and I – and it was so _weird_ and out of nowhere and – "

"And why didn't you?" Josh suddenly stops, causing Drake to almost crash into him. "Tell me?"

"I – I didn't want to hurt you," Drake says, realizing suddenly that he's never said anything more true in his life. "I never want to hurt you, ever." Josh scoffs and storms off again, tearing the vest off and throwing it on the ground. "Josh, wait!"

"Just…" Josh holds up a hand, flinching away from him and jogs over to his car, tearing the door open. "Not. Now."

Drake watches helplessly as Josh gets into the driver's seat and pulls the door open angrily, clumsily shutting his pant leg in the door, causing him to reopen and close it again. Josh pulls out of the space and tears out of the parking lot, leaving Drake in the dust, covered in beer and absolutely stricken.

He stands there and stares after his car for several minutes, unable to form any coherent thoughts. Suddenly he's sixteen again, soaking wet and staring through the door of his chemistry classroom, watching everything he's ever needed drift away, undeserving of the only constant good thing he's ever had. He stumbles and falls backward onto a parked car, wobbling on the ice, unable to keep from falling without Josh to hold him up.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when he feels a hand on his arm and he whirls around, causing Mindy to jump back to avoid being smacked. "Sorry," he nearly shouts, blood pumping through his veins furiously. "Sorry."

"Is he okay?" she inquires calmly, shivering. They're both still soaked, and Drake can feel the bite of the breeze through his wet clothes.

"I have no idea," he says honestly. "I'm so stupid. So, so stupid. Of course he would follow me – of _course._ Stupid."

Mindy sighs, shaking her head. "It's not – I never should've called you." She bites her lip. "You should go talk to him."

"He's not – he doesn't want to talk to me," Drake says, his voice breaking slightly. "I – _damn it."_

Mindy is quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely.

"It's – um." Drake pauses, thinking. "It's not your fault," he says slowly. "I – "

Mindy shrugs a little. "Just go, okay? You know you're going to."

"I – Mindy – "

She shrugs again. "I'll be fine." He narrows his eyes slightly. "I'm not an invalid – go find your brother. Moron."

He shakes his head, utterly unable to care anymore. "Thanks."

"Whatever."

\--

Drake breaks every traffic law known to man driving home, only to find a Joshless house upon peeling into the driveway.

He does, however, find Wanda. And promptly wishes he hadn't.

"You," she fumes, as soon as he walks through the door. He blinks at her once, twice, and knows that he really is upset when he can't even laugh.

Wanda is covered – absolutely covered, head to toe – in glitter. Not just any glitter, but multi-colored glitter, too, and it shines and sparkles in the lights. It sticks to every inch of exposed skin and is threaded through her bundle of curly hair, and Drake knows instantly that she'll be combing that crap out of it for weeks. It's even all over her glasses, and she's wiping at them furiously with her shirt, which is covered in glitter as well and therefore is only making it worse.

"You…you did this," she spits. She pushes her glasses back on her face and glares, looking like an irate disco ball. "How _dare_ you. When _Josh_ finds out about _this,_ you – you'll be _sorry!_"

Drake doesn't have the time or the energy for this, and he simply sighs, dropping his keys in the bowl. "No, I didn't," he says slowly, moving into the living room and collapsing on the couch.

"Like I can _believe you!"_ Wanda stomps her foot, sending a cloud of glitter flurrying into the air.

Audrey rushes into the room, carrying a handful of towels. "I – I brought…washcloths!" she says, rather helplessly. "Oh, Drake, you're home, thank God. Wanda had an accident with the craft box." She gives a stifled laugh, quickly turning away when Wanda looks at her sharply.

"It _exploded,_" Wanda hisses. "Literally. And like _Drake_ doesn't already _know._"

Audrey sets the towels down on the table. "Wanda, surely you don't think that someone did this on purpose?" Wanda crosses her arms and seethes.

Drake sighs. "I didn't do it, okay?" he says tiredly. "I was out all night anyway. I haven't been home since this afternoon."

"Wanda, I'm sure it was just an accident." Drake leans his head back on the cushions, marveling at his mother. This has Megan written all over it. "Really. Now look, I'm going to get some warm water, and we'll wipe most of it off. I'll wash your clothes out in the yard, and we'll do our best with your…hair…" Audrey says weakly, stifling another grin as she looks up at Wanda's crazy mane, made even crazier by the sparkly glitter.

Wanda nods tersely and waits until Audrey leaves the room before turning to Drake. "Look, you little _shit_," she says fiercely. "I _know_ you don't like me, and I _don't_ like you either. But I'm _going_ to marry Josh, no matter how many _pranks_ you pull on me. So if you _think_ this is gonna _stop_ me, _you've_ got another thing coming." She turns and flounces off in a dramatic exit, made significantly less by the trails of glitter that flurry around her with every movement.

Drake stares after her listlessly, unable to feel anything other than exhaustion.

"Nice, right?" He turns to see Megan sauntering into the room, satisfied grin firmly in place. "I debated between glitter and spaghetti sauce, but I think I made the wiser choice."

"Glitter's much more annoying," Drake agrees in a monotone.

Megan collapses next to her brother. "So you're pathetic," she says. "And you reek. You shouldn't let Mom whiff you, she'll pound into you for drinking."

"I wasn't drinking," Drake says fruitlessly. Megan shrugs.

She turns to look at him after a moment. "She won't last, you know. Honestly."

"You didn't hear her?" Drake turns to look at her sullenly. "I'm a little shit, and I've got another thing coming."

"Yeah, whatever." Megan rolls her eyes. "It's up to Josh more than her."

"I think he really cares about her, Meg."

"Uh huh." Megan looks unmoved. They sit in silence for a moment, both of them listening to Wanda talking shrilly to Audrey, down the hallway in the bathroom. "He'll be back soon," Megan finally says, quietly.

Drake turns to look at his sister, who looks back evenly. He laughs a little, without humor. "Whatever you say."

\--

Drake retreats to the guest room – which he still doesn't think of _his,_ not really – to hide, basically. He feels numb, a combination of weariness, anger, regret and guilt overloading him until all he wants to do is crawl up in a hole and forget that people named Josh Nichols or Mindy Crenshaw even exist. He collapses into bed, desperately wanting to shower and wash the stink of alcohol away, but not wanting to brave the glittered-Wanda-infested bathroom.

He doesn't know exactly how long he lays there, or what time it is when he finally stops hearing Wanda's faint voice, bitching through the walls, or the sounds of Audrey, Megan and Walter moving around. He remembers apathetically that it's New Year's Eve, and probably past midnight at this point. He knows that they probably had some sort of celebration planned, overridden by Wanda's glitter emergency, but he can't bring himself to care about missing what is basically a useless event anyway.

The house is quiet and Drake allows his mind to drift, halfway between awake and asleep. He goes from cursing Mindy's name to Josh's, to his own, and then back around again before finally forcing himself to close his eyes in a weak attempt to at least try and sleep.

At some point, he does drift off slightly, enough to be startled back into consciousness at the sound of his door opening. His first thought is that his mom is checking up on him and he groans. "Go away," he mumbles.

Whoever's at the door freezes, and Drake looks over, peering through bleary eyes. A lean, tall figure meets his eyes and Drake immediately sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "Josh."

"Hey, Drake."

"Oh God, man, I'm so glad you're here," Drake rambles, not really thinking about what he's saying. "I thought you hated me, and I – man, I'm – I'm so relieved that you – "

"Drake, stop," Josh says gently. He hesitates a little, then comes into the room and shuts the door behind him. "We need to talk."

"I know. I know, man." Drake blinks a little and sits up, scooting up to lean against the headboard. "Listen, I am so sorry I didn't tell you about Mindy, but – but it wasn't what you think it was. Honestly." Josh is silent, moving over to sit on the bed gingerly. "We had a…thing, on my tour. She lives in San Jose, she's a nurse or something. But she called me tonight, and she was feeling shitty and…that's all it was. It didn't mean anything else than that."

Josh stays quiet, picking at a thread on the bedspread. "I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell me," Josh says quietly. "I thought…"

"I – I didn't want to tell you because it didn't mean anything," Drake implores. "Really, dude. It was just…a frustration thing. She's got stuff going on, I've got…" he trails off.

"What?" Josh sighs shortly. "See? There, you're doing it again. Since when do you keep secrets? From me?"

Josh looks so earnest and hurt that Drake crumbles a bit inside. "I – I don't mean to keep it from you, I just – "

"It's not that you have a – a thing with Mindy," Josh says after Drake doesn't finish his sentence. "Really. Mindy and I have been over for a long time. It's just that – you know, it's common courtesy to _tell_ a guy when you date his ex, no matter how long it's been. And it's like, double common courtesy to tell your brother."

Drake flinches. "I know, okay? I know."

"So…why, Drake? Why couldn't you tell me? Why don't you…tell me things anymore?" Josh bites his lip momentarily. "It's like you're this whole other person lately, and I can't figure out what's wrong with you." Drake stays silent. "Drake, come on. It's just me."

"I…" Drake can hardly speak past the huge lump in his throat. "Josh, man…" he says helplessly.

"What?" Josh inches forward slightly, laying a hand on Drake's knee.

Drake's eyes fall shut involuntarily at the touch, and he shudders. "Josh, please," he says. "Just…don't hate me."

"What?" Josh frowns. "Why would I – "

Drake cuts him off with his mouth, clenching his eyes shut tightly and moving without thinking. He feels Josh jerk in surprise, growing rigid, but he's too far too gone to stop now and he crawls over the bed, awkwardly keeping his mouth pressed against Josh's as he scoots over and throws his arms around Josh's neck, twisting his hands in the collar of the shirt he's wearing, desperately trying to get closer, closer.

Josh slowly, inch by inch, relaxes beneath Drake's touch, and his mouth opens hesitantly, shaking with nerves. Drake seizes the opportunity and crawls closer, sinking into Josh's warmth, his kindness and his light, surrounding himself with the quirk and the intensity and the innocence and everything that makes Josh _Josh._

Drake hears a throaty moan that he realizes belatedly has escaped from his own throat, and suddenly feels strong hands on his thighs. It feels weird and new in a thrilling way and Drake scrambles to get closer, tighter, more. He hears a grunt and suddenly he's on his back with Josh on top, and a rush of heat renders him temporarily blind.

Josh pulls away slightly, gasping for breath, and Drake has the presence of mind to gather words. "Jahh – uheh, I – um." He closes his mouth abruptly and swallows. Well, he tried.

"Drake," Josh says, voice raspy. "Wait, wait."

"Mmm." Drake clears his throat, eyes glazed. "Wha'?"

"What are – you and I – "

Drake frowns and pulls Josh's head down again. "No," he manages and pulls him back into a kiss.

Josh responds for an agonizing few seconds before pulling away again. "Wait. _Wait a minute._"

"What?" Drake tries to scoot backwards slightly, but finds himself pinned by Josh's weight.

"I just – I need a minute." Josh looks down at Drake, face dark with lust, before shaking his head slightly and moving backwards onto his haunches. "We – we – "

Drake lays there and looks up at him, breathing heavily, air too thick. "Josh…"

"I – Wanda," Josh says suddenly. "And – and Mindy."

"No Mindy," Drake says incoherently, then clears his throat. "I mean, I'm not with Mindy."

"But you – "

"I told you it didn't mean anything."

"It sure looked like something," Josh grumbles.

"Josh," Drake says seriously. "It meant _nothing_. She's not even…" he lets out a frustrated breath, grappling for words. "Compared to…"

"Oh," Josh breathes.

"Yeah," Drake replies. "Oh."

"Well…" Josh leans forward slightly, then jerks backwards. "Wanda!"

"Wanda," Drake repeats flatly.

"I – " Josh shakes his head, trailing off. "This is crazy."

Drake feels something leaden in his chest. "Right," he says, clipped. Josh looks at him helplessly, confliction written all over his face, and Drake's heart lurches. "Wanda," he repeats. "Okay. It's okay."

"Drake…"

"No," Drake interrupts, forcing the words out. "I – you don't hate me right?" Josh shakes his head feverishly, eyes wide. "Then…then it's okay. You can – " Drake can't finish and he looks away, clenching at the bed sheets until his fingers turn white.

Josh's face falls. "I can – you don't care?"

"I _care,_" Drake replies hotly. "Look. Just…you do whatever you have to do, okay? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." He knows he's lying, but the thing is that words tend to spill out of his mouth without his permission lately.

Josh flounders for a second, then tears off of the bed, jiggling his legs nervously and turning towards the door. "Oh. Oh, okay. Okay." He sighs shortly. "Okay."

"You said that already," Drake says dully.

"Well, it bears repeating," Josh replies defensively. "Everything's…okay. We're okay."

"Josh," Drake snaps.

"What?" Josh snaps back.

"Would you just go, already?" he bursts out. "Go back to _your_ bedroom with _your_ fiancé. I'm sure she could use the help combing the glitter out of her hair."

"Wha – glitter?" Josh frowns momentarily, then straightens up in anger. "You – what is _the matter_ with you?"

"The matter with _me_?!"

"You – you're just lying there all…come hither, and…with those _jeans,_" Josh spits. "And you're all sad and quiet and then all…" Josh makes a weird sputtery noise, waving his arms around in front of his face. "…and now you're all 'your bedroom! Your fiancé!' These are unfair mixed signals, sir!"

Drake stares at him incredulously. "You're insane," he finally says.

"And you're…a tease!" Josh falters. "Or something."

Drake folds his arms across his chest protectively. "Can you find your point and leave already? Go back to _Wanda._"

"Stop talking about Wanda!"

"Get out!" Drake throws a pillow at him angrily. "Just go, okay! Go!"

Josh catches the pillow and throws it back on the bed. "Fine. Just – fine." He scoffs angrily and turns on his heel, striding out of the bedroom. Drake collapses back on the bed, barely feeling the beginning of the hurt before Josh slams back into the room. "Oh-ho no, you're not pulling this crap with me!"

"What?" Drake says wearily. "Josh, I'm too tired for this."

"Well wake up, mister!" Josh grabs the pillow and throws it at Drake's head. "Idiot."

"Hey!"

"I'm really sick of this," Josh announces. "You're gonna tell me what's going on in your head, and you're gonna tell me _now._"

"My head _hurts_ ever since you threw a pillow at it," Drake says sourly.

"That's not what I mean!"

"Well, I _know_ that's not what you meant!"

"Well why don't you just say what _you_ mean?"

"Because," Drake sputters. "Because you don't _want_ what I want, and – "

"How do you _know?!_"

"Hello! Fiancé! Bedroom!" Drake waves his arms wildly. "Honey-bear!"

Josh scowls. "Avoiding the subject."

"Stop dragging this out."

"You won't tell me what you want because you're afraid that it's not what I want, even though you pretty much know what I want just as much as you know what you want – "

"Dude, stop," Drake commands. "My head is already sore."

Josh sighs angrily. "You're so – so stubborn!"

"You're so engaged," Drake mocks.

"Would you _stop bringing up Wanda?_ I don't _care_ about Wanda, I don't _want_ Wanda – "

"Well what the hell do you want?!"

"I want _you_, you absolute _moron – _"

"Well, I want you too, you fucking happy now?" Drake bursts out, breathing heavily.

Josh stops and stares at him for a second before ducking his head and staring at the ground. "Drake," he starts.

Drake feels instant regret creep up on him. "Josh, listen – " Josh's shoulders are shaking. "Are you – what? What is it?"

Josh brings his head up and reveals a brilliant grin, and Drake realizes he's laughing. "You're such an idiot," Josh says in-between bursts of laughter, and he bends down to brace himself on his knees.

Drake stares at him, unimpressed. "I'm an idiot, yes," Drake says. "But you're a jackass."

"Maybe." Josh bursts into laughter again. "Oh man, Drake. _Man._ We're both idiots."

Drake collapses back onto the bed. "Can we take a breather, please?"

"Yeah." Josh flops down next to him, face down. "Why couldn't we have done this like, three years ago?"

"Because…we're stupid."

"Uh huh."

Drake lays back, turning to look at Josh in the dim light. "Josh, I really do – "

"Yeah, I know. Me too."

They lay in silence for a few moments, comfortable silence stretching between them.

"I have such a mess to clean up," Josh says quietly, breaking the quiet.

Drake bites his lip. "Me too."

"Yeah." Josh sighs. "We're okay, though."

Drake turns over on his side, laying his head on his arm. "Yeah," he says after a moment. "We're definitely okay." Josh moves his leg slightly so that it touches Drake's foot, and they both smile at the same time. "More than okay."

"Mmm."

"And," Drake says. "I'm gonna need my bedroom back."

Josh chortles. "I was waiting for you to ask."

\--

End.

&lt;!-- end story --&gt;


End file.
